


Love Bites

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Ficlets: Supernatural [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Omega Castiel, Past Castiel/Michael (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Tumblr ficlet written to the prompt: an a/b/o about cas, who had a one sided mating broken and the bite scar to prove it, and he meets dean somewhere and likes him but doesn't want to hope bc after all he's like 'used goods' or some angsty shit and it's about them navigating their feelings





	Love Bites

Castiel looked sadly at the bare walls of his house.

* _Not my house, not anymore..._ *

"That'll about do it!" Dean, irrepressibly cheerful, stepped back into the former living room, dusting his hands off on the knees of his jeans.

Standing in the center of the room, Castiel spun a slow circle. The couch had been against that wall, and he and Michael had cuddled on it to watch TV, and made love on it, and shared dinner while playfully poking each other with their forks. Square outlines, gray against white, marked where their art collection had hung. Divots in the carpet betrayed the former presence of the coffee table, the entertainment center, the bookcase, the end tables. Their wedding picture had held a place of pride on a bookshelf beside a photo album chronicle of their honeymoon. Michael's beloved DVD collection had filled a stand beside TV. The room was full of ghosts, though Michael was 8 years gone.

Michael had left almost all his belongings when he'd packed his car with suitcases and driven off. Everything Castiel had thought Michael cherished had been abandoned like so much garbage.

* _Including me._ *

His idle hand rose and skimmed over his raised bite scar.

* _True mates. Mating bites. Those were supposed to mean something. But they didn't. They don't._ *

* _I don't mean anything._ *

"You okay, Cas?" asked Dean, deep, gruff voice pulling Castiel from his reverie. Dean looked concerned, though he cocked a half-smile when Castiel met his eyes. Dirt smudged his face and sweat soaked his t-shirt; the weather was unseasonably hot and Dean was the only of Castiel's friends who had shown up to help with the move. The two of them together had moved every box, every furniture item, stripping the house to bareness and barrenness. The closing date was in three days, and professional cleaners were scheduled to come the next day in anticipation of the buyers' final walkthrough. Soon, the walls would bear new art, the carpets would be hidden beneath new furniture, and the rooms would see the formation of new, hopefully happier, memories.

Dean, grinning and flushed, waved a hand in front of Castiel's face. So much for being pulled from his reverie. Distracted by the ghosts of what had been, Castiel hadn't noticed Dean close the distance between them. Exertion made the alpha scent wafting from Dean heady, old polished wood and dust and sweat, Dean's usual aroma mingled with the smells of Castiel's old house.

Dean was gorgeous and he smelled great.

But he didn't smell like * _mate._ *

* _Why couldn't my one true love have been Dean?_ *

"Dude, if you need more time..."

* _There's not enough time in the world for me to recover from the scenes that passed in this house. I should have left years ago, or_ _I_ _should stay forever._ *

* _No. I_ _have_ _to_ _get out. I have to_ _get_ _away from Michael._ *

"Let's go." Castiel said, starting toward the door. There weren't enough words for him to express all he thought, and even if there were, burdening Dean with Castiel's issues was uncalled for. No one, not even Michael, wanted to hear the nonsense that passed through Castiel's head.

"What, both of us?"

* _Wait, what?_ *

Confused, Castiel stopped and turned back to Dean, who stared at him agape.

"Were you planning to stay in here?" asked Castiel.

"Gah, no, of course not - I hate this place, always have, and I hate that it reminds you of the douche who ditched you," said Dean. "But you said...nevermind." Dean shook his head and strode past Castiel, pulling the door opening and holding it in invitation.

Castiel tried to move but his feet might as well have been glued to the floor. At least nostalgia had no longer caused his paralysis. "What did you think I meant?"

"Nothin' - it was stupid - you'd never...and I'm sorry I put Michael down, I know you hate when I do that, but when I think about how he treated you I get so damn mad and damn I'm gonna stop talking now except are you sure you don't want help when you get to Washington? I ain't got anything going on this week, I could drive out with you and help you unpack cause there's no way you'll be able to move all this shit into your new place alone and--"

"I'd never what?" Castiel's brain had frozen at the beginning of Dean's reply, and he scarce heard the rest.

"Huh?"

"What do you think I'd never do?"

"Well, you know..." Dean grimaced, looked away, let the door go and used the freed hand to rake at his hair.

"I promise, Dean, I haven't a clue."

Dean glanced at Castiel, saw him staring, looked away again, checked once more and averted his gaze once more, repeated the process a third time to see Castiel's answering scowl, and finally mumbled, "You'd never date again."

"Of course not, I--"

"And I get it!" Dean interrupted hastily. "After what happened with Michael you've changed." Castiel's chest tightened painfully. "There's no going back to how you were before." Castiel was used goods, cast aside - no one wanted an omega so undesirable that their true mate ditched them - but hearing someone say it, hearing * _Dean_ * say it, would be the worst.

"Please, don't--"

"But sometimes I wish you would date again, that's all. Like just cause one alpha broke your heart doesn't mean we're * _all_ * assholes!"

Castiel's jaw dropped.

"So I'm a dumbass and for a hot second when you said 'let's go' I thought you wanted me to move with you but that's totally crazy, you've never responded to me flirting with you or anything and that's fine you don't owe me anything and--"

"When did you flirt with me?"

Dean looked up sharply. "Uh...constantly? For like the first two years I knew you? Fuck, Sam thought we were dating I laid it on so thick. But I was out of line, I see that now. I shoulda laid off as soon as I realized you weren't into it, instead of imposing on you so long. I'm, uh, I'm sorry about...why are you looking at me like that?"

Castiel couldn't look away, wide eyed, stunned, brain spinning with the ramifications of what Dean has said. All he managed to vocalize was, "You...were flirting...with * _me?_ *"

"Wait." Something like comprehension dawned on Dean's face. Castiel hoped he'd share the revelation because Castiel still didn't have one Goddamn clue what was going on. "You weren't giving me the cold shoulder. You genuinely didn't have a clue. Holy shit."

"Why would anyone flirt with me?" Castiel's voice had gone hoarse, and his hand went to cover his mating scar. "I'm...I'm damaged goods."

"What, Michael tell you that?"

Not in so many words, but Castiel nodded. Even if Michael hadn't sneered and told Castiel that an omega like him deserved to be alone, Castiel knew when his mate left that no one would solicit him again.

"If I meet that son of a bitch I'll kill him," vowed Dean.

"Please don't, I'd prefer you not be incarcerated." Castiel took a deep breath and sense and lucidity settled over him. Dean was saying...it sounded like Dean was implying... "You'd move to Washington with me?"

"In a heartbeat." Dean didn't even hesitate. God, Castiel loved him.

Where had * _that_ * thought come from?

* _I've loved him all along - he's my best friend - but he's not my mate and I never let myself think..._ *

"Like, seriously, I can be packed in about twenty minutes, everything I own fits in my car, I'll quit my shit job...anything for you, Cas. Did you * _seriously_ * not realize I tried to get in your pants all those times? I mean, not that it's only about sex...I think you're awesome, you gotta know that...but how did you not realize I was coming on to you?"

"I seriously did not realize." Castiel's hands drifted to his belt buckle. Dean's eyes widened as he watched the movement. "Going forward I'd prefer if you would be more straightforward in your communication with me. I struggle with subtext. It's one of the many things Michael hated about me."

"Right. No subtext." Dean kicked his lips, staring as Castiel undid his belt buckle and unbuttoned his jeans. "So, uh, full disclosure, flat out, if you don't want me to fuck you into the carpet you should probably stop doing...what you're doing. You smell so damn good...I've wanted you for, like, ever..." There was a growing bulge at the front of Dean's pants.

Castiel lowered his fly.

"Fuck, Castiel...tell me what's going through your head, * _please_ *, or I'm gonna lose it..."

* _What_ *is* _going through my head?_ *

"I have many bad memories - or memories made bad by subsequent events - of this room. Before * _we_ * move to Washington, I'd like to create one excellent memory to take with us. If you're amenable."

Dean, as it turned out, was extremely amenable.

When Castiel finally left the room for the last time, he didn't hesitate. He had no more regrets. He wasn't alone. He had Dean, and Dean had him.

Moving was the best decision Castiel had ever made.


End file.
